


Low-Key

by fuckinsteverogers



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Arranged Marriage, F/M, Fluff, Groping, Loki being a shit as per usual, More than intended but oh well, Pining, Public Sex, Royalty, SECOND CHAPTER HAS A WEDDING, SECOND CHAPTER IS 'NO MORE LOW-KEY', Smut, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering, WILD RIDE AHEAD ;), unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 12:29:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17406920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuckinsteverogers/pseuds/fuckinsteverogers
Summary: During a Vanaheim ball, Prince Loki and Princess Y/N find themselves in some compromising positions.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Request: Would you write some more Loki smut?
> 
> I’ve never written Loki smut, anon, but I’m sure glad to start. I imagine Loki as a dominant little shit so that’s what I went for. I really hope you like it!!! I had so much fun writing it!!

A gown made of the finest jewels wrapped perfectly around your body, encasing one of the most important people in the room, along with the princes of Asgard which stand sullenly in the corner; the beautiful blonde ones gaze astray, focused on one of your handmaidens, the one with undying beautiful that rivalled your own, and the other, the beautiful dark-haired prince that you knew as the God of Mischief had his gaze directed at the only person besides his brother that rivalled his status… you.

Over the shoulder of your father, as you chatted amongst the circle of Vanir officials, you could see his eyes, that beautiful blue looking straight into your soul, you could see what he wants clear as day on his face, something your family would  _never_ agree to. You were expected to marry a kind-hearted man who didn’t have a habit of kidnapping his own father and basically starting war amongst the nine realms. 

But looking at him now, under the dim lighting of the ballroom, you can’t help but want him, maybe just for tonight, and tomorrow your parents can choose a husband for you and you can consummate with him imagining your life was different and you had the right to marry for love.

You found yourself excusing your presence from the circle and moving towards the main doors of the ballroom, all whilst keeping your eyes on the prince. You walk the hallway towards your bedchambers, the beauty of your dress gleaming in the moonlight that is streaming in through the windows of the castle.

You don’t notice him until you’re against the wall; the tall, dark man looming possessively over you. 

“Princess,” He greets, a cheeky grin on his lips. You feel your breath hitch looking up at him, his beauty only magnified with the moonlight. 

“Is this how you treat all royalty?” You questions, glancing down at the hand that’s wrapped tightly around your bicep, holding you steady against the wall. His other hand comes up beside your head, leaning against the wall so he can loom over you, intimidating. 

He laughs and you wonder why everyone always talked about Loki’s laugh being sinister; a thing of nightmares, but all you hear is bells ringing in your ears and a flash of admiration spread through your chest. The beauty of the God is not lost on you.

“I treat women with the utmost respect… until they beg me not to,” Loki replies, tilting his head to look into your eyes. You suddenly feel naked under his gaze, shivering in the heavily jewelled gown. 

“I didn’t ask you not to, Prince,” You growl back, wholly playful as you attempt to tug your arm from his grip. The attempt is futile, his grip too strong for your weak tugs.

“No, perhaps not, but your eyes did, Princess.” Loki grins, charming and beyond heavenly. You feel your knees weaken so much that you would have collapsed if it wasn’t for Loki’s possessive hand.

“My eyes?” You deadpan, rolling your eyes. “Consent isn’t given through a gaze, Prince. You’d think your education would have taught you that.”

“Normally, Princess, I wouldn’t touch a woman unless she screamed to the high heavens that she wanted me, but you… you’re different. Your eyes revealed to me your wants and needs, for me to ravish you, in front of everyone if needs be,” Loki murmurs, flashing his bright teeth to you. You watch his eyes go darker as his words become more syrupy, and the words travel straight to your core. 

“The God of Mischief respectful to women?” You scoff in disbelief, teasing him. His eyes flash dangerously and his grip on your wrist finally loosens.

Loki leans down to grip the bottom of your gown, lifting it from the floor up to your thighs, moving between your spread legs. 

“Women are the hive mind to civilisations. Women are love against war. Women are light in darkness. Women are the purest form of magic.” Loki surprises you with his words, showing you a side to the prince that no man, nor woman has probably ever seen. Loki tilts his head down to you, brushing his lips lightly against yours, teasing. He pulls away just as fast as the action and it leaves you gasping, chasing his lips for me. His smile tells you that is exactly what he wanted. “And you, Princess Y/N of the Vanir, are the purest light I’ve ever had the luck of taking.”

“Taking?” You squeak, locking your eyes with Loki as his hands drift under your gown to find your undergarments; lace encasing the real jewels.

“Yes, Princess. I plan on taking your virtue right here in the hallway, where anyone can come and watch the Princess be defiled by the God of Mischief,” Loki purrs, teasing, joking along with you, his fingers pressing against the lace covering your pubic bone, not giving you anything, but showing you he is going to.

The promise of defilement in the middle of the castle, where a guard or a guest could join the intimate activities incredibly easy makes you shiver, and surprisingly, soaks you to the core. You begin to shake with anticipation, looking up at the Prince as his fingers slowly creep towards your heat.

His smile lifts as his fingers come into contact with the wetness that has soaked through the lace, showing him your want for him, your need for his touch. He clicks his tongue, removing his fingers which produces a whine from you, missing the feeling of his fingers resting against your need.

“Now, now, Princess. Patience,” Loki teases, grinning. You whine, frowning up at him, your hands holding the gown up for his wandering hands and you wish you could touch him; run your fingers through his long, dark hair.

Loki doesn’t tease you for long, his fingers soon pull your lace undergarments to the side and swipe through your wetness directly. His eyes darkening with lust as he does, the feeling making you moan openly, showing him your want.

Loki looks conflicted as he swirls his index finger along your clit, your eyes hooded with lust as your lips part, releasing moans into the world. He looks down at you, not sure whether to take you then and there and quench his thirst for you or tease you, have you begging for him to distinguish your innocence.

The latter wins as his fingers dip against your entrance, feeling the wetness drip from within you, all for him. 

The moan you release when he pushes a finger within you has Loki hardening dangerously in his pants, you can feel it against your leg, begging to be inside of you. Lifting your thigh slightly, to gently rub against his hardening length; Loki grins, leaning down to claim your lips.

You moan into the kiss, finally getting what you wanted, having the Prince aroused and wanting you. His lips caress yours sweetly, his free hand entangling itself in the curls at the nape of your neck, bringing your face closer to his; deepening the kiss.

Loki’s tongue entangles with yours, your moans breaching his mouth, and when you let one hand lift to entwine in his hair, feeling and tugging lightly, his moans join yours. The sounds of heavenly arousal cause you to whimper slightly and clench around his stilled finger, his sounds music to your ears.

You tug on his hair again lightly, drawing a groan from his chest and you give up your control, giving into your body’s pure desire and begin to rock your hips against his finger; entranced as shocks of pleasure shoot through you, amazed at what one of his fingers can do.

Loki grins against your mouth, moaning into the kiss, his hand cradling your head as he momentarily pulls his finger from inside you, and as you begin to whine at the loss, he reinserts two inside you, stretching you with his long, thick fingers. 

You can hear the music coming from the ballroom where your people were no doubt dancing amongst the Asgardians and where they had no clue that their future queen was being defiled by the God of Mischief, but it doesn’t stop you from rocking your hips down against his fingers and moaning shamelessly.

You don’t feel like a princess, like the future ruler of Vanaheim, you feel like the woman that’s lusting after a man, the woman who has the right to decide her fate, that she might just be able to take his hand in marriage and love him unconditionally, but he isn’t like that and you aren’t allowed to be like that.

Instead, you settle for the lust, the momentary lapse of judgement, taking your hand from within his locks and moving it to unbutton the pants he is wearing, lined with green and gold, and looking into his dark eyes as you reach into the confines and wrap your hand around his desire.

Stroking, Loki begins to moan loudly, his mouth dropping open as his hand stalls inside you, too overwhelmed by the feeling of your hand stroking his cock. 

“A dangerous road, Princess,” Loki growls to you, thrusting his hips against your hand, hinting at you to stroke faster. You oblige easily and begin to pick up the pace, stroking his thick, long length quickly, building up the orgasm that is written all over his face.

“I like a little danger,” You tell Loki cheekily, releasing his length from your hand, removing your hand from his pants and grinning up at him, attempting to rile him up enough to take you here and now.

“Does the future queen of Vanaheim enjoy being claimed by a God?” Loki questions darkly, as he undoes his pants and shucks them down enough to remove his cock which bounces with its release, the tip an angry red that is begging for release.

“I enjoy being claimed by you,” You reply honestly, looking up at Loki, his grin faltering a moment before it’s replaced with the sweetest smile in the nine realms. The lust in his eyes stalls a moment as he grasps your head with both hands and kisses you like you’re the single most important person in the universe.

“You’re mine,” Loki speaks when the kiss is broken, all the emotions that have woken you up at night in cold sweats are clear on his face; love, sadness, admiration, a deep set unhappiness.

“I’m yours,” You confirm, looking up at his beautiful face. You take one of the hands that are grasping your face and press a single loving kiss into his wrist; a tradition of love.

As your eyes begin to tear up, Loki positions himself at your entrance, staring down at your glassy eyes. Nodding up at him, he begins to push into you, and it’s bliss. Your eyes roll back and you begin to shake violently from the overwhelming pleasure that is travelling up your body. 

Loki thinks he’s the luckiest man alive as he stares down at you, your gown shining bright with hundreds of jewels encrusted into the fabric and the blissed out look on your face. He’s so deeply in love with you. He has been since the moment he saw you as young children, but when he saw you again as a woman, with curves and a bright smile, with hair so shiny and lips like juicy cherries, he’d fallen head over heels, as the mortals would say.

“Do you remember-” You pant, moaning from the pleasure Loki is giving you. Loki locks his eyes with yours, waiting for you to continue. “When we were teenagers in the gardens when you took my virtue against that tree, and your father almost caught us.”

Loki chuckles deeply, thrusting hard up into you, the laugh turning into a groan. “I remember you moaning so loud that he turned around and almost found us.”

“I am not to be blamed for the indiscretion. You were ravishing me,” You defend yourself, grinning up at the prince, loving the feeling of his cock dragging in and out of you. Your orgasm builds steadily as Loki fucks into you, rolling his hips in such a seductive manner that you wondered how effective running away might be.

“He would have loved to see us together. He assures me that you’re a good influence,” Loki continues the conversation, only making your chest tighten more, knowing that you’ll never have him… not fully.

“He would love to see us married. Unfortunately, my father doesn’t see the world as clearly as Odin does,” You reply mournfully, glancing sadly at your prince who returns the saddened look. 

“Let us not talk of this. Let us just enjoy our time together, while it may be short, you must know that I love you,” Loki tells you, a lovesick smile on his lips. His thrusts pick up the pace and you are gone, your eyes watering, sending cascades of tears down your cheeks. 

With the ‘I love you’, you begin to orgasm, thrown over the edge and falling back against the wall, listening to the sounds of Loki’s groans as you clench around him, moaning loudly as your entire body is set alight.

“I love you,” You repeat over and over as you come down, your entire body weak from the intensity of the orgasm.

Loki groans as you chant your love for him, feeling you tighten around him and it sends him over the edge. He scrambles to pull from within you, producing a handkerchief.

Watching him unfold in front of you, you move to wrap yourself around his side, kissing along his jaw as he groans deeply, his chest rumbling as he comes into the handkerchief. You wrap your arms around his waist and let him lean against you as he groans through the aftershocks of his orgasm. 

Watching him crumple up the handkerchief in his hand and shove it into his pocket, you would give anything for you to orgasm together, him inside of you, but you knew the risks, you knew you’d grow large with his children and your father would never forgive you, never let you become queen. 

After you both straighten yourselves up, Loki turns and wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. Feeling him pressed against you, you consider the importance of Vanaheim and how they don’t need you, you’d be a great leader, a historical leader, but your heart tells you that this is the most important thing.

“I wish we could be married,” Loki says, living in the post-orgasm glory. 

“I would give my kingdom to be your wife,” You reply honestly, knowing the consequences of your decision, but Loki doesn’t let the thought burden you for long because he leans down and presses your lips to his, moulding your mouths together in sweet passion.

Little did you both know that your father stood at the end of the hallway, watching the scene unfold, knowing he had to make the choice; either he loses his daughter and future queen or he accepts her decision to marry a man he wished had never been found by Odin.

As the king watches his daughter and the God pull away from each other, witnessing the look he gives her, one he recognizes himself giving his Queen, he realises that he doesn’t have much of a choice.

“Y/N,” Loki whispers suddenly, his heart rate picking up. You furrow your eyebrows, confused as to his panic. You notice his gaze directed behind you, and turning, you notice your father, standing tall at the end of the hallway.

“Please tell me he didn’t see anything,” You panic, looking up at your prince. Loki shakes his head, and your shoulders relax.

“Just the kiss…” Loki confirms and you breathe out a huff of air, staring at your looming father. “We should have been more low-key.”

Your mouth falls open as you snort out a laugh. Embarrassed, you slam a hand over your mouth, only to have Loki join your laughter, clearly aware of his wording and as your father stares down the hallway at you, laughing with the God of Mischief, watching the look of serenity on the prince’s face, he knows not only is he good for you, but you’re good for him.


	2. No More Low-Key

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Princess Y/N is to be wed, but not to the man she loves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second part to Low-Key. I wrote the first one on a request and wrote this one because people loved the first one and I kind of ended it in a place that was unfinished, so here it is. Send me messages, review it, reply to it. Send me some feedback.

The dress was encrusted with millions of diamonds, it was fit for a Princess. It fit like a glove, bellowing around your feet as you step up onto the pedestal, the veil wrapping around your body like a silk cloud, attempting to ease the ache of the disappointment of the day. 

You looked like a queen, tiara situated on your head, the engagement ring with a diamond the size of your thumbnail sitting on your ring finger. 

You had yet to meet your fiance. Tradition states that you were to meet at the altar, but while it meant you were detached from the situation, it also meant that you were never going to be able to see Loki again. 

Your father had walked away from the scene of Loki and you enjoying each other’s intimate company and hadn’t mentioned it since; almost six weeks later. You had almost placed your abdication at his feet, but Loki knew how much your people needed you, as a ruler and a queen; so he’d convinced you to stay, without him, as much as it broke his heart.

Now you were marrying a man you’d never met and didn’t even know the name of, in the most beautiful dress that you’ve ever had the privilege of wearing. You just wish you were wearing it for Loki.

“Are you ready, Princess?” One of your handmaidens asks, breaking your thoughts. You nod, not lively enough to produce words. You were about to enter into an agreement that guarantees that you’ll be miserable for the rest of your life… But, for the sake of your people.

Your handmaidens lead you through the castle, towards the chapel, and your mind drifts on the walk, heels clacking.

Maybe you had to say goodbye to Loki, but you certainly didn’t have to say goodbye to the memories.

_“Y/N, be quiet,” Loki hushes you as you giggle. He grasps your arm tightly as he stills himself within you, the feeling of his glorious hardness within you as guards pass by; your giggles threatening to give away your position. “Do you want us to get caught?”_

_When you clench and grind down onto his cock, throwing your head back; he just smirks, because of course, you want to be caught, you dirty fucking girl._

_“Let them see my love for you,” You get out, looking up at the love of your life as you roll your hips, digging your fingers into his shoulders.  
_

_“My dirty girl. Fuck, you feel like heaven, my love,” Loki speaks in hushed tones, still away of the clattering of boots on asphalt, but the look on your face as he speaks makes him pull back his hips and thrust hard into your heat, only serving to open up your noises to the world.  
_

_“Loki,” You say desperately, the world spinning. “I’m so close.”  
_

_“Come for me then, my queen,” Loki groans, and you do, harder than you’ve ever come before and it sends the world into spirals and the clenching of your heated core has him on the brink as well, but he can’t finish within you, because you aren’t his to claim.  
_

The memory makes you smile as you remember the moment in the gardens. You walk past the rose garden on your walk to the chapel and it only brings back more memories.

_A single rose. Red in colour. Vibrant with life. Lying on your bed._

_“Do you like it, my love?” You gasp, turning abruptly to see the Prince Loki standing in your doorway. He looked ravishing in an all-black suit, perfect for the meeting he had just attended with your father.  
_

_“Just one?” You say cheekily, raising an eyebrow at him. He blinks at you for a moment, but slowly a sly smile makes its way onto his lips.  
_

_And when you blink, you’re surrounded. Roses, roses, roses and more roses. All perfect, all red._

_“Loki,” You say, no more words forming in your brain. He grins over at you, he knows there is no claim to you here, and that he will never get to see your smile or hear your laughter for the rest of his life, but to see the look of astonishment, that he would… could love you that much, is enough to last him a lifetime.  
_

_“My love for you is endless, Y/N and I will show you until the moment you are wed to another man,” He admits and your breath in the scent of his love for you.  
_

_It smells like roses._

The memory almost makes you cry, but you don’t want to show your weakness today of all days, so you keep the tears in and keep walking.

_“I wish I could convince your father that Loki would be a worthy king and husband for his daughter, but you know better than I do, Y/N, that your father is rather pig-headed,” Odin admits to you. You listen, then offer him a biscuit which he waves away and you listen some more. “Loki has his issues, but everyone on Asgard and even some here know how fond he is of you, know that he’d do anything for you.”_

_“Including never being with me,” You finish, staring down at the dark tea in your teacup.  
_

_“Exactly,” Odin agrees, drawing your attention up from your tea. “He would sacrifice his own happiness for your duties.”  
_

_“But what if I can’t do the same thing? Sacrifice my own happiness for my people?” You ask Odin; confused, frantic, in-love. Odin grins across the table and bites into a finger sandwich.  
_

_“Then you have a difficult decision to make.”  
_

You wish every day that you hadn’t listened to Loki and had abdicated and followed your heart, especially as your steps slow when the chapel comes into view. Flowers vine up the bricks and the flags flying, guards standing out the front and your father, awaiting your arrival.

When the clack of your heels echo, your father turns abruptly, looking at you with his sharp eyes. He stares until you are in front of him, and then he stares some more.

“My daughter… my future queen,” Your father begins, taking your hands. “I am so proud of you. I know how hard this situation is for you, but I promise it’ll all be fine in the end. You will be a strong queen and a ruler with an iron-fist.”

“Father,” Is all you say, your eyes tearing up from his admittance, but also partially to the fact that you want to run as fast as you can to Loki and never turn back.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, and you can’t stop yourself from being honest.

“Deathly.”

Your father lets out an uncharacteristic laugh and you can’t help the smile that overtakes your face.

“Are you ready?” He asks, taking your hand and placing it under his arm. One of your handmaidens hands you your bouquet and it’s time.

“As I’ll ever be.” And the church doors open and your future awaits.

The music begins, and you breathe in slowly, attempting to calm your nerves. The smell is what comforts you. Roses. 

You look down at your bouquet. Red roses. Why did the universe have to be so cruel?

Your mind drifts to Loki as the doors open, the entrance hall filled with roses, vases and vases of them. You make a mental note to chastise whoever made the decision to curse the worst day of your life to a graveyard of broken dreams. 

“Breathe, my dear,” Your father urges as you get to the door; the one your future husband stands behind. You nod, not trusting your voice to hide how hard your heart is hammering at the thought of marrying this man. 

The guards grasp the golden handles of the chapel doors and you suck in a breath, as the doors are swung open and the music starts, the soft melody so uncharacteristic for a wedding. 

You can’t bear to look up, to see him, to know who you are going to spend the rest of your days with. Your utter disgust must be evident on your face as your father begins to walk to you down the aisle, gripping your flowers in your trembling hands.

“Look up, daughter,” Your father commands. You are meant to meet the eye of the man before entering the chapel, but you couldn’t bear it… Not when your heart belongs to another.

But you do as he wishes, as your king wishes, and look up.

The smell of roses hits your straight in the face as you exhale sharply and inhale straight away, tears spring to your eyes because you’re marrying him. Him! How could your father do this?

“I love you, Y/N. Know that. As my daughter, as my future queen. I love you,” Your father says when you make it to the altar, him turning towards you to take your cheeks in his hands and kissing you upon your forehead; tears beginning to streak down your perfect makeup.

The moment your father hands you off to the man you’re about to marry, the man’s warm hand grasping yours and helping you up the steps; your stomach dissolves into sickness. You can’t help but stare at him, in a traditional wedding suit, encrusted with jewels, a rose in his dress pocket; you’re to marry him.

You stare at him throughout the whole ceremony and he you, both in utter disbelief that this is happening. Marrying one another, for the union of the country, for the protection, for the strength, and as he takes your hands and looks you in the eye, stating his vows; you begin to cry again.

You don’t stop until;

“I now pronounce you, Husband and Wife. You may kiss the bride,” And you’re swept up in his arms, mouth moulding against yours, hands holding you tight against him. 

You close your eyes and feel it, feel him. He pulls away first and you stare up into his green eyes, tearing bubbling in them as he looks down at you. You’ve never seen Loki cry before.

“I love you, my love,” He says, more for a show, but also for real, because you know he loves you, you knew it from the first six hundred roses and you know it again with the bouquet in your hand and the one in his dress pocket. 

Loki takes your hand and leads you down the aisle, and as you walk with him into your new life, you turn back and look at your father. 

He grins, wiping a tear from your mother’s face, and you feel your heart swell because your happiness is the only thing he’s ever wanted. and with Loki, you’ve got it.

“We weren’t very low-key in there,” Loki states as you walk hand in hand through the rose garden, passing the time together before the reception, just enjoying being husband and wife.

You stop walking and cover your mouth, masking the giggles that are threatening to burst from your lips. Loki grins, sweeping you up in his arms.

“Don’t hide those beautiful sounds. I want to hear them every chance until the day I die,” Loki tells you, staring down at you with the love and admiration you feel in your heart.

“I love you. No more low-key, understood?” You say, rubbing your nose briefly against his. Loki grins down at you, and presses his lips to yours, smoothing his warm, sweet taste across your lips.

“Understood, my wife,” He replies, the word sounding like liquid gold as he dips back down and moulds his mouth with yours. 

You could get used to an eternity of this. Just him and the roses.


End file.
